Iris
by Valeera
Summary: He gave him everything so he could rise above. His voice became his passion. His love became his obsession. And his refusal became his rage. A POTO&X-Men crossover. Cherik
1. Prologue: 1919

**This was originally posted a long time ago, but I deleted because I wasn't too keen on it. I'd thought that I would come back to it and start writing again just for the heck of it and see how it goes. There's not really much to say, but I think the beginning is good so far and if you guys like it, I might continue. Enjoy! :)**

**Title: Iris**

**Author: Valeera**

**Rating: PG-13- for language, violence, and sensuality**

**Summary: He gave him everything so he could rise above. His voice became his passion. His love became his obsession. And his refusal became his rage.**

**CAST:**

**Erik Lensherr- Erik, The Phantom (Am I seriously the only one who finds this ironic, lol:D)**

**Charles Xavier/Professor X- Christine Daae**

**Moira McTaggert- Raoul de Chagney**

**Meike Engel-Meike (herself basically. Rue's name has been changed to Meike ( pronounced my-kuh) due to some creative reasons. One last quick note about Meike. In my original story that I will soon write, Meike is between the ages of 12-13. But for this, she's sixteen so plz bear with me on that.)**

**Riptide- Carlotta (Come on guys, you know this one is funny. Having a guy that barely spoke in the movie to play a loudmouth? Priceless;))**

**Storm/Ororo Monroe- Madame Giry**

**Raven Darkholme Xavier/Mystique- Meg Giry**

**Alex/Havoc- Firmin**

**Hank/Beast- Andre**

**Shaw- Buquet**

**Emma Frost- Piangi**

**Over & Out!**

* * *

It was 1919. A year that signified that the war was over, but also reminded some that it nearly destroyed France.

An old woman, not touched by the crippling effects so often seen by the old, stepped out of a Rolls-Royce with the help of her nurse. She strode down the street and up the stone stairs with purpose, the walking stick she carried clicking sharply against the cobblestones. She stopped at a landing, and her blind eyes turned up to the enormous building. Though she could no longer see, the old woman felt the building's magnificence, and she let out a shuddered breath.

The Paris Opera Garnier- the greatest opera house known all the world over- stood before her, a mere memory of its former glory. A banner strung across the two pillars at the entrance to the Opera House fluttered in a faint breeze. On the banner, it read in french: "Public Auction Today." The old woman had come from Scotland to return here after so many, many years. Her chest tightened painfully, both at the sight of the building and from her age. Swallowing forcefully, she walked inside. Her imposing stature spoke of the bearing of nobility, and she never had to dodge about or stop suddenly. Those who bothered to look at the old woman saw the embroidered patch upon the left side of her coat, and hastened to move out her way that much faster.

The strike of the auctioneer's gavel echoed from the stage as the woman strode into the theater. Everything was immaculate, without a hint of dirt or decay anywhere. The only thing that hinted of the Opera Garnier very quietly acquiring new owners after years of emptiness was the auction itself. Hired hands took away a plaster carving, the most recent of the items sold to the small crowd gathered on the stage.

"Sold!" the auctioneer cried. "Thank you, Monsieur." He looked up at the sound of the old woman's walking stick tapping sharply on the stage, instantly recognizing the patch on her coat.

"Ah, le Comtesse Kinross! Here for the auction, I hope?" The woman nodded, and the auctioneer's smile grew. "Good, good! Now, item number six-sixty-four in our auction today." A hired hand brought forward a laden platter. "From a production of _Robert le Diable_, three polished human skulls and a wooden pistol."

The confirmation that the white skulls were not plaster made all but two of the small crowd wince. The Comtesse was one of these two, and the other was an elderly woman with hair that was white as snow and scarlet eyes. The woman looked at the other woman, instantly recognizing her.

"May we start the bidding at, say, ten francs?" the auctioneer asked. The woman's hand went up as she nodded. "Madame Lefroy, thank you! Am I bid fifteen francs?"

He cast his eyes about, but only found shaking heads. He hid his disappointment and lifted his gavel. "Ten once—ten twice—sold! Thank you, Madame Lefroy." The man carried away the platter before the strike of the gavel had stopped echoing, and another came forward carrying something covered by a silk handkerchief.

"We have now come to the last items in our auction, Lot 665 and 666 ladies and gentlemen!" he said loudly. He paused and cleared his throat, leaning on the podium before him purposefully.

"Now, I'm sure you all know of the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera, do you not?" A soft murmur of assent rippled through the small gathering. Madame Lefroy stared coolly at the auctioneer, and the Comtesse started, turning to stare eagerly at the silk handkerchief. You would be daft if you didn't know the tale of a man that was said to have bend metal at his own will and kill you with it with no regrets. It was a strange tale about the Phantom of the Opera, and the young tenor who captured the Phantom's heart completely. It was a tale that told of one man's love and obsession that nearly devoured every one of the Opera Garnier into flames. It was a great tale, one that had been repeated so many times that it had become such stuff of legends and myths. There was only one failing of the story that had been told over and over, whispered amongst children and adults alike. No one knew how the tale truly ended.

"Well, we have here something that proves the Phantom was not just a myth."

He reached over and lifted the silk handkerchief up. A carefully crafted metal helmet, one that would have covered half of someone's face, was revealed lying on a silver platter. Gasps were heard around the auction and eyes became the size of golf balls. The audience weren't able to tear their gave away. The auctioneer grinned broadly, standing straight and puffing out his chest.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is the very helmet that the Phantom wore!" he said. "It was discovered in the catacombs beneath the Opera House, after the famous incident involving the talented tenor Charles Xavier and his disappearance. May we start the bidding at thirty francs?"

The Comtesse's hand went up immediately. The auctioneer smiled at her. "Thirty, from le Comtesse Kinross! Do I hear thirty-five?"

Madame Lefroy's hand rose with a small nod. "Thirty-five! Thank you, Madame! Am I bid forty francs?"

The Comtesse lifted her hand again, glancing blindly to Madame Lefroy quickly. "Forty francs! Forty-five?" Madame Lefroy looked at the Comtesse, seeing the fiery determination on her face._ She never gives up_. She mentally thought. _It was probably one of the only attributes that **he** admired about her._ She gave the noble woman a slight smirk and shook her head. "Selling for forty once—forty twice—sold, to le Comtesse Kinross! Thank you so _very_ much, Madame."

The hired hand started to take the helmet away, but the Comtesse struck her walking stick against the ground and gestured for the young man to bring it to him. She took the helmet from the platter and waved the young man away. The Comtesse put her stick under one arm and held the helmet in shaking hands. Her fingers caressed the curves of the heavy helmet, and she bit the inside of her cheek. When the auctioneer spoke again, the Comtesse realized that she had drawn blood.

"Lot 666 then!" He exclaimed. "A chandelier in pieces. Another extraordinary memorabilia that is linked to the Phantom of the Opera."

The Comtesse shuddered. She would know that chandelier anywhere. Madme Lefroy looked at the chandelier the same as she, knew remembrance written on her cold mask. It was linked to that night that changed their lives forever. And they would never forget it.

The auctioneer didn't seem to notice and he continued. "Our workshops have restored it and and wired parts of it for the new electric light, so we may have an idea what it may look like when reassembled. Perhaps we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago, with a little illumination. Gentlemen!"

He called to the men standing near the chandelier. The lights were blazingly turned on, and all at once, the Comtesse and Madame Lefroy's minds wandered back to that time, so long ago, when that chandelier hung beautifully in the theater. A time when one man fought for the one thing he wanted the most. The room filled with light…and music.

* * *

**OK, for those of you who have seen the show, you know that the overture plays right here. For those of you who haven't, go listen to it right away! Love? Hate? Hope this is a great start. Review plz! :)**


	2. I: Hannibal

**I really don't have much to say at the moment, but hope everyone enjoys this new chapter and plz review, because you're also what helps me keep this going Oh! And before I forget, I just need to get this out. For those who have seen the 2004 movie, they will know what I'm talking about. In the movie, the date is 1870. However, for my story, I wanted to keep it historically acurate by setting it in 1880. The date in the movie was incorrect because construction of the Opera Garnier was not completed until 1875, due to halt of construction because of the Franco-Prussian War. Just saying.**

**Title: Iris**

**Author: Valeera**

**Rating: PG-13- for language, violence, and sensuality**

**Summary: He gave him everything so he could rise above. His voice became his passion. His love became his obsession... and his refusal became his rage.**

**Over Out!**

* * *

**_Paris, 1880_**

_The candles that surrounded the great cavern were all lit, giving the place an eerie glow._ _Charles walked around the cavern listlessly, struggling to see in the half dark-half light place. Then, from the corner of his eye, Charles saw a swish of a black cloak. He chased after it. Further and further, he came into the darkness, struggling to see who was also there with him. There was little light to guide him now. Just when he was out of breath and about to give up, a face suddenly came into the bare light. A handsome face that was all nearly hidden. The man smiled, showing a row of many white teeth that looked like a shark's._

_"Come to me," He said in deep, rich voice. It made Charles shiver as it seemed to roll up and down his spine as if it were velvet._

_A black leathered glove hand was extended out to him. Charles found himself slowly walking toward the hand, reaching out his to take the man's hand..._

"CHARLES! WAKE UP!"

Charles Xavier's eyes flew open, realizing that his adopted sister Raven was hitting his back, shaking him, and calling out his name. When Raven saw Charles open his eyes, she stopped her beatings. She sighed and had a look of such relief upon her face.

"Finally!" She sighed. "You were really into this nightmare. I actually thought that you were going to die this time."

"A nightmare?" Charles asked. The dream had been anything but a nightmare.

"Yeah," Raven nodded her head. "You were thrashing and twisting around in bed, and you were covered in sweat. I couldn't get you to wake up for the longest time."

"I'm sorry for worrying you Raven," Charles said, running a hand through his messy hair.

"It's alright," Raven said shaking her head. "Was it the same dream again?"

Charles silently nodded his head. The dream wasn't anything new to him. "It's always the same. It's been that way for as long as I could remember... do you think that's normal? Don't most people have different dreams?"

Raven didn't know what to tell her brother. She wished that there was a logical explanation to explain such a thing, but to her there wasn't. And so instead, she merely shook her head and smiled sadly. "I don't know."

Just then, the door opened, and Raven and Charles turned to see a young girl. She was lanky and looked to be no more than at the age of sixteen and wore a slave costume that was similar to Raven's. She had red lips, pale skin and white blonde hair- she was almost as white as snow. But the most intriguing thing about the girl was her eyes- they were a scarlet red and piercing. Her name was Meike Engel.

"He's still not up yet?" She asked as she came further in. "We're already late as it is!"

"He'll be ready in the next few minutes!" Raven reassured but Meike just rolled her eyes. Raven then turned back to Charles.

"Now come on then sleep head. You heard Meike, we're already late for rehearsal."

"I slept that_ late_?" asked Charles, bewildered.

"Yes!" Raven laughed. "I brought up your slave master costume so you could get changed. We'll wait outside for you."

With that, she got up, and she and Meike bounded out of the room closing the door behind them. Charles got out of bed hurriedly and turned to look at the chair by his bed. Sure enough, his outfit for the play was there. He immediately took off his nightclothes and put it on. When Charles opened the door, he found Meike and Raven there waiting for him.

"Come on!" Raven said. "Madame Munroe's going to be angry with us if we're any more late!" The three rushed out of the ballet dormitories and down the winding stairs. There, they quickly rubbed the tips of their ballet shoes into the chalk and finally made it to the stage before their ballet instructor, Ororo Munroe, could scold them about their delay, causing them to bump into the Opera's leading tenor Janos Quested.

"Watch where you are going you little toads!" He screeched. Suddenly, Meike turned back around and smirked.

"Why don't you make us you old screeching hag?" She sneered.

"Meike!" Charles hissed while Raven snorted in laughter.

_"Why you wretched, little-"_

"Señor and Meike that is enough," Ororo said as she came over to stop the upcoming fight. Meike simply shrugged her shoulders and silently walked back towards Charles and Raven, who were already with the other dancers. She didn't see why Ororo always got on her case about Janos. In Meike's mind and defense, she was simply telling the truth.

"Now as everyone were..." Ororo said and everyone was back to what they were doing; her teaching the dance lessons, stagehands working on the sets and Janos was back to his 'wonderful' singing.

When they stopped practicing, the dancers watched Janos sing in his loud horrible voice. Charles, Raven, and Meike both winced in unison.

"Can't he ever sing with the right pitch?" Meike asked. "I think he's made me bloody half deaf by now. Why does Creed and Logan keep him? He's clearly past his prime."

"Because if he left who would be our new leading tenor?" Charles sighed.

"Good point..." Meike admitted. "But I still don't like it."

No one in the Opera Garnier had a voice to become the new leading tenor. And besides, no one absolutely dared to replace Janos Quested. If someone did, then he would destroy that person and the entire opera company for their 'mistake'. And so, they were stuck with him until he keeled over on stage and died- as Meike liked to put it. When Janos and the chorus's part were over, the Opera's leading soprano, Emma Frost began to sing. The Maestro Armando Muñoz immediately stopped and barked at something Emma did wrong, making Charles and the girls giggle. Emma spitefully glared at the black man; Armando didn't notice and began to play the music once more, not noticing the managers, James 'Logan' Howlett and Victor Creed, walking in with two other men behind them.

"Armando," Logan said holding up his hands in defense. "Ororo…ladies and gentlemen? Please if I could have your attention? Thank you."

Everyone now turned to look at them, wondering what he was going to say.

"As you know, for some weeks there have been rumors of my brother and mine's imminent retirement," He said. They all listened even more closely wondering if the rumors had been true.

"We can now tell you that these are all true," He said. Chatter started amongst the group. A triumphant "Hah!" was heard from Emma as she pointed at Janos.

"You owe me seven francs!" Meike triumphantly smirked at Raven who just glared.

"-and it is my pleasure to introduce you…to the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Garnier…Monsieur Alex Summers and Monsieur Hank McCoy." Hank waved at everyone as they all clapped at the news.

There was a polite applause among the stagehands, dancers, and actors and some bowing. Janos and Emma made their presence felt by thrusting themselves in front of two male actors. Emma smiled prettily as they were introduced, batting her eyelashes at Alex, who raised an eyebrow and looked pleased. Raven uttered an, "Oh please!"

"I'm sure you've read of their recent fortune amass in the junk business," Creed said.

"Scrap metal, actually," Hank said.

"And we are deeply honored to introduce our new patron- The Vicomtesse de McTaggert." Alex said.

A beautiful young woman in blue stepped out from behind them. She had dark auburn hair in a chignon and brown eyes, with a kind smile. Charles was shocked. He knew who this woman was!

"It's Moira..." Charles said. Meike and Raven turned to look at him. Charles let his gaze linger towards Moira and smiled shyly.

"You know her?" Raven asked, surprised. Charles nodded.

"Yes," He replied. "Before father died... and I was still away in school, we were classmates together. I can't believe she's actually here."

"Charles, she's so beautiful," Raven said. Charles smiled.

"She's grown up," He said.

"I'm happy to say that my parents and I are continuing to finance the arts- and this miraculous theater!" said Moira as she genuinely smiled at everyone around her. "Now I can only say if you can forgive me for the time being, as I have another appointment to attend to."

"We'll see you to your carriage, Mademoiselle." Logan and Creed, the new managers, and the Vicomtesse walked over. Charles perked up at this, hoping Moira might see and recognize him, but became crestfallen when she passed him without even looking.

Charles smiled sadly. "She wouldn't recognize me anyway."

"She didn't see you!" Raven interjected

"Yes, but I think Janos has found a new object for his affection." Meike said, still looking on at Janos, who was gushing over the fact that the Vicomtesse _loved_ her. "How many francs do you bet for how long will it be before the Vicomtesse throttles his neck by the first night of the season's performance?"

"Five," Raven wagered. "I need to win back my money."

"Ten."

"Fifteen. If not she's already thinking about it."

"Done!" Meike exclaimed, the two girls shaking their hands in agreement. Charles merely shook his head at what he would call the bet, "childish nonsense".

"Moira's not like that. She could never harm anyone."

"Even if it's Janos?" Raven asked.

"Well..."

"I'm just saying. I think she could do us all a favor if she did."

_'Before **somebody else **does._' Meike thought to herself. She looked up at the stage rafters, and thought she had seen a swish of a black cloak. When she came back to, Meike noticed that Ororo was watching the same spot as she had. When the dance instructor broke her gaze away and found the young girl staring, she gave the group a stern glare.

"Charles, girls! Pay attention!" Ororo ordered. Everyone went back to their places after introductions were made. Charles, Meike, Raven, and the other dancers went back to the dance. As she watched her dancers, Ororo turned to see her former and new managers return and walk over to her.

"Lovely, just lovely!" Hank exclaimed as he watched the dancers. Acting as the slave master, Charles twirled and lashed his whip at Raven and Meike; the girls jumped away in the air together in a ballon and landed in a perfect fifth position.

"We take particular pride in the excellence of our ballets, Monsieurs." Ororo explained to Hank and Alex. "There is no other like the corps de ballet of the Opera Garnier."

"I can see why," Hank marveled, as he became enchanted by Raven's dance. He blushed and turned away, when she caught him staring. He whispered hurriedly to the dance instructor, "And especially by that remarkable blonde woman over there."

"Raven Darkholme, sir."

"And that exceptionally talented young man over there? No relation, I trust?"

"Her adoptive brother, Charles Xavier. Promising talent Monsieur McCoy, very promising." Hank's eyes widen incredulously at mention of the name 'Xavier'.

"Xavier, you say? No relation to the famous British scientist, Brian Xavier?"

"The very same," Ororo gave her head one curt nod. "His only biological child. They were orphaned at age seven when the mother passed away, and he and Raven came to live and trained in the ballet dormitories."

"Yes," Creed stated, frowning a little. It was clear that the young bright blue eyed man was not a favorite among the older members of the staff. "Always has his head in the clouds, I'm afraid to say."

The ballet continued to its climax and ended as the dancers scattered to the far corners of the room. Once they were offstage, the chorus resumed.

_Bid welcome to Hannibal's guests _

_The elephants of Carthage!_

_As guides on our conquering quests,_

_Dido sends_

_Hannibal's friends!_

An elephant, life-sized but mechanical, was led onto the stage. Janos, still playing his part of Hannibal, was lifted onto its back. Emma, who was playing the part of Elissa, Hannibal's fair but ill-fated lover, began her solo center stage and sang her song. Not liking to be outdone by his partner, Janos lifted his sword hand and belted out his final solo of the as only he could. The actors and dancers grimaced.

_Once more to my_

_Welcoming arms,_

_My love returns_

_In splendor!_

After a few more minutes of song, the chorus _and_ Janos was finally finished. Everyone dispersed from their positions and went to other parts of the stage as the elephant was pulled off the stage, revealing the two stagehands that operated it from within. Meanwhile, Alex strode forward to Janos and said flatteringly, "If I remember correctly, Hannibal has an aria that he sings to Elissa before he goes off in Act Three. I wonder, Senor, if- as a personal favor, you would oblige us with a private rendition?"

Alex then looked towards Armando. "Unless, of course, Monsieur Munoz objects..."

But before Armando could say anything (He was supposed to say, "Yes I do object, thank you very much!"), Janos flashed him and the new managers a dazzling smile.

"If my manager commands… Armando?"

Poor Armando. How he didn't want to do what Janos wanted. But, he was just the conductor. And apparently, his word would be overruled by the word of Janos Quested. And if someone went against Janos' word... it was hell to pay. He bowed to him and replied, "My _Tenorissimo_ commands."

Armando seated himself at the piano nearby and asked, "Will two bars be sufficient introduction?"

Creed, who seemed as if he really didn't like Janos all that much and he just wanted to leave. But he wouldn't lower himself to saying so out loud, and replied, "Two bars will be quite sufficient."

"Senor?" Armando asked, ensuring that Janos was ready.

"Maestro." Armando nodded and began to play the introduction. Janos straightened his shoulders and stepped forward, his normally beady, shrewish eyes shining like twin moonbeams as he began to sing.

Charles, the girls, and all of the others winced as the first note rang out. Meike whispered to her friends, "I wish we had some of those.", when she saw two of Emma's seamstresses putting ear plugs in to protect their ears from the screeching.

Janos was in the midst of his song when suddenly there was a loud ripping sound and then one of the girls in the ballet chorus screamed, pointing to a place somewhere behind the tenor. A cry from all instantly filled the stage, for part of the backdrop had pulled free from its hangings high above them and was crashing towards Janos, who looked up, saw it, and darted forward just in time. The backdrop hit the floor with a loud, somewhat dull thud, sending dust flying into the air—

And then all was silent.

In the immediate, stunned aftermath of the disaster, a few of the younger ballet dancers had begun to cry and everyone else was either murmuring among themselves, wondering what had just happened, or staring at the fallen piece of scenery. The first audible words came from Raven, whose suddenly very dark eyes were turned up towards the rafters in an odd mixture of both terror and wonder.

"He's here: the Phantom of the Opera…"

Raven's announcement ripped through the chorus and the rest of the ballet dancers and soon the room was filled with whispers of, "He's with us! "It's the ghost! "He's here!" Meanwhile, Emma was the only actress who seemed unconcerned about the reason behind the accident as she rushed across the stage to a swooning Janos. "Idiots!" she snapped at them; then, tenderly, to Janos as she gathered him into her arms, "Are you hurt?" Adding to the tumult, Logan and Creed joined in, exclaiming loudly, "Señor! Are you all right? _Shaw_! _Where is Shaw_?"

Creed glanced up, and ordered curtly to some of the stagehands that stood nearby. "Get that man down here!" He then turned to Alex and Hank, explaining hastily, "Chief of the flies. _He's_ responsible for this."

Suddenly, a not so handsome and rugged man staggered onward to the stage, taking his leisurely time, carrying a tattered cloth. Logan, however, in his impatience, snapped. "Shaw! For God's sake, man, what's going on up there?"

"Please, monsieur, don't look at me," the head stagehand replied, "As Heaven is my witness, I was not present where I should have been. Please, monsieur, there's no one there: and if there is, well then…"

With that, he held up the tattered cloth and pulled from it a length of a rope, its end fashioned into a noose. Horror and repulse immediately crossed the faces of Logan and Creed and the two new managers as soon as they'd seen it. Grinning wickedly, Shaw said, "It _must_ be a ghost…"

There was a moment of stunned silence before Raven broke it by saying, "He's there: the Phantom of the Opera…"

Irritated, Alex snapped, "Good heavens! Will you show a little courtesy?"

Raven, however, only glared at him with vacant, emotionless eyes and at length, he turned away, tiring of the silent battle of wills. Hank was also exasperated.

"Mademoiselle, please!" he begged but shrunk away slightly when Raven turned her glare to him. Alex turned to Janos, who was standing with Emma by his side, looking pale and shaken, but unhurt.

"These things _do_ happen." he apologized.

It was obvious that he was hoping that the tenor would have recovered enough from his shock by then to be reasonable. Unfortunately, Janos _was_ Latin blood. And it ran hot in his veins, as well as a full-fledged, tyrannical temper. He stepped forward to the managers, leaving Emma's side, his eyes blazing, and furious as a cyclone as he bit off his next words.

"_Si_! These things _do_ happen!" he railed at him. "Well, until you _stop_ these things happening, _this_ thing does _not_ happen!" He then flounced offstage, calling after himself to Emma, "Emma! _Andiamo_!"

She dutifully went and fetched his furs from the wings, holding them for him as he shrugged the wrap onto his shoulders, still attired in her Elissa costume. Then the two performers stormed out of the auditorium, but only after Emma had looked back once and spat contemptuously, "Amateurs!"

And then they were gone.

In the second stunned silence that followed, no one spoke. Then, Logan announced, somewhat abruptly, "I don't think there's much more to assist you, gentlemen. Good luck. If you need my brother and I, we shall be in Australia."

The brothers dashed offstage, grabbing their coats, hats, gloves, and canes from a stagehand that held them out to them as they passed. They were gone as quickly as they had come. There was a third, long moment of silence as Alex and Hank stared at each other, and, alternately, the actors, dancers, and stagehands stared at them, watching for their reaction. Finally, Alex regained his voice and spoke. "Janos Quested will be back."

"You think so, messieurs?" The cool, feminine voice of Ororo Munroe came from behind them and the new managers turned around to see her regarding them coolly.

She held out a folded piece of paper to Hank, saying simply, "I have a message for you, sir, from the Opera Ghost."

At the mention of this horrid name, the ballet chorus all of the girls excepting Charles, Raven, and Meike twittered and twirled in fear and Hank rebuked them, seeming appalled by their strange behavior, "Good Heavens, you're all obsessed!"

They went abruptly silent as Ororo continued, "He merely welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to leave Box Five empty for his use and reminds you that his salary is due."

Hank looked incredulous and asked in a low voice, "His _salary_?"

Ororo nodded slowly. "Messieurs Logan and Creed paid him twenty thousand francs a month. Perhaps _you_ can afford more, now with the Vicomtesse de McTaggert as your patron."

Alex, exasperated with the woman, finally burst out, "Madame, who is the understudy for this role?"

Armando stepped forward, voicing the answer.

"There is no understudy, monsieur," he said, in a low voice as the managers turned to him. "The production is new. Even if there was, there is anyway _no_ understudy for Janos." There was a reaction to this from the managers, who both groaned and looked away.

Then, Raven and Meike stepped forward into the midst of them, fearlessly dragging a reluctant and unwilling Charles Xavier along with them.

"Charles Xavier could sing it, sir." Raven replied.

Alex looked even more incredulous than he had when Ororo came up to them. "A _dancer_?"

"He's been taking lessons from a great teacher." Meike explained, completely disregarding the worried glance that Charles gave her. Interested, Hank stepped forward and asked the young man, "From whom?"

Charles looked away, however, seeming as if he really didn't want to answer the inquiry. Finally, he replied, softly, "I cannot lie to you, sir, for I _do not know_…"

"Oh, not _you_ as well!" Alex protested, impatient, and turned to his associate. "Can you believe it, Hank? A full house and we have to _cancel_!"

Then, Ororo interceded on Charles's behalf, siding with her young pupils, as she said, with an utterly convincing amount of firmness in her tone, "Let him sing for you, monsieur. He has been _well_ taught."

There was a long, dreadful pause as Alex looked at Hank; Hank looked at Charles; Charles looked at the floor; Raven and Meike waited anxiously; and Ororo watched Hank for an answer. Finally, Armando stepped into the void, saying tentatively, "From the beginning of the aria then, monsieur."

Charles took his place in center stage as the rest of the group moved to one side and Armando began to play the opening bars of the aria. In silence, he waited for his cue. Then he looked up, and his eyes centered on Box Five, as if sensing that someone was watching him. Alex and Hank watched on in apprehension.

"Hank, this is doing nothing for my nerves."

"Don't fret, Alex."

Then, he began the aria. As music filled the stage and the theatre itself, everyone around him was awed. Charles's voice was an angelic, perfect sound: deep, bell-like and clear and sweet, unlike that of any other tenor in the world. Who knew that Charles Xavier, the quiet male dancer, had a voice that could make the angels weep? He could dip down into the lower notes of any scale and make them velvety and rich and soft if he so desired, and he could make his song soar into the heights of the highest notes attainable, bright and vivacious and pure. And it was that moment that made him a star. For Alex Summers and Hank McCoy had decided to keep him in the part of Hannibal on the spot.

* * *

**Review plz!:D**


End file.
